


Head in the Clouds

by Miraphina Atherton (mew_tsubaki)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, Angst, F/F, Older Characters, mentions of Nevannah
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:54:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27649859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mew_tsubaki/pseuds/Miraphina%20Atherton
Summary: Neville is not the bad guy, just presumptuous. Victoire is not the devil either, and she tries to convince Hannah of this.
Relationships: Hannah Abbott/Victoire Weasley
Comments: 3
Kudos: 1





	Head in the Clouds

**Author's Note:**

> The Harry Potter characters belong to J.K. Rowling, not to me. Read, review, and enjoy!

Why did you marry Neville, Hannah? To escape Ernie? To keep Ernie a friend? Because everyone else was getting married? Because you didn't want to be "that unmarried Hufflepuff who took over the Leaky Cauldron for some reason"?

You knew from the beginning that you and Neville were not suited for each other.

Perhaps by marrying him, you thought you were at his level. Everyone talked of the "Golden Trio," but people looked when Ginny, Luna, and Neville passed, too. In the aftermath of the war, it came out that those three had been with Harry, Hermione, and Ron that night in the Department of Mysteries. And those three had been with the trio ever since.

You wanted a bit of that hero's sheen on you, didn't you?

You all fought in the war, but that didn't matter. You reached for Neville, expecting a better life.

But that life never came. You got a simple life, where you served people drinks to forget the war and Neville was an Auror to prevent another war from happening, and then he was a teacher to teach a new generation Herbology and you were still that woman behind the bar counter.

Then things weren't so simple anymore.

Then a girl caught Neville's eye. He was too shy to do anything. Neville could help make Voldemort mortal, but he still had a hard time talking to women. Even after that girl left Hogwarts, he still did nothing with her.

Instead, he divorced you. He was so sure that he could convince this little chit, this Victoire Weasley, that they were a match made in heaven.

You doubted that he even heard how ridiculous he sounded. But that was Neville, always chasing and never catching. He chased his grandmother's approval. He chased Luna. He chased Death Eaters. He chased Mandragora.

He never chased you, though. You chased him.

So a miracle happens: Victoire walks into the Leaky Cauldron. You think that she's the bait. She could lead him here, back to you. You don't give a damn that her expression is sorrowful; you don't give a flying fuck that, for once, you are prettier than she is. You could care less about this girl.

But, day after day, Victoire sits at a table in the Leaky Cauldron. And, day after day, Neville does not appear.

You do not lose hope. Instead, you allow your spite to eat you up inside.

On a day when you're feeling particularly Dark, Victoire finally traipses up to the counter. You don't look at her, but she stares at you until you lift your head. When you do, you see that the Cauldron is basically empty. A scowl lands on your face.

"Mrs. Longbottom—"

"Don't you call me that!" you hiss. You say it for two reasons. One, you're not a Longbottom anymore. Two, she doesn't have the right to say that name so smoothly.

"Ms. Abbott…"

You finally glare at her, Hannah, and what do you find? Something that unnerves you.

"I'm sorry—" she begins.

You forget her stare and drop the mug in your hands, your anger filling your being so much that you can't hold anything right now. "I hate you for what you did to my marriage!" you yell.

"And I'm trying to say I'm sorry!" she desperately says, but it comes out as a whisper.

You think of all the rumors you've heard, how she must've enticed him, how her Veela blood is more powerful than Fleur's. "Get. The hell. Out." The words are so heavy that you feel as though they tumbled from your lips and landed with a thud in your arms like a dead body.

Victoire flinches and leaves. But she comes back the next day, as if the two of you still haven't exchanged a word.

It continues, this silent protest of hers, for months. And, for months, Neville never appears. You begin to doubt that he'll ever come back, even to say a friendly hello, and you know you miss that bit of him, at least.

But, when news of his appearance in Diagon Alley reaches your ears, that Dark part of you that you thought you had quelled resurfaces. Your eyes lift up, and Victoire comes into your line of sight. For once, you don't feel so much blind rage at the girl.

How could you, as this plan unfolds in your head?

You will leave the counter, you will engage her in conversation, you will make her believe that she can earn your trust, earn an ally to proclaim that Victoire is not a filthy whore or heartbreaker (whichever it is). You will touch her hand, you will make contact with her, you will worm your way into her thoughts and heart. You will romance her, because if you take Neville's toy away, then he just has to pay you _some_ attention, doesn't he?

It doesn't matter that every time you say "Victoire" or "Oh, dear" or "You're a sweetheart," that thing that unnerved you before never leaves her eyes.

It doesn't matter that you know you are hurting her by making her drop her walls around you every time she drops her robes (and isn't that an added bonus? Because you haven't gotten any for _how_ long?).

It doesn't matter that the rumors of Neville being back in town fade and yet you continue to hold that strawberry–blond head in your arms.

It doesn't matter that you think back on how you used to clash with this girl…and now every fiber of your being is going against your common sense to keep her happy, is striving to keep her by your side.

She tells you that she never returned _his_ attention. She tells you that she never expected to be here with you, like _this_. She tells you she doesn't want your _forgiveness_ anymore. She just wants your _love_.

You're so stubborn, Hannah. You're too loyal to your pride to tell her as she sweetly hangs her favorite pendant around your neck that…that you'd seen her sincerity in her eyes all along. And, that, somewhere along the way, your plan backfired. Victoire won…but if you won, in a way, too, then it can't be all that bad.

**Author's Note:**

> It's kind of funny, because I got such a scathing vibe from writing Hannah like this that I was wondering if she was going to produce her wand and just kill Victoire. :+ But the more I wrote it, the more I felt Victoire's charms working on Hannah…maybe now Hannah will understand why Victoire unwillingly caught Neville's eye? *lol* Thanks to lowi for the prompts of "strive," "pendant," "clash," "hold," and "strawberry," as they helped to take this old idea of mine and flesh it out some more. :]
> 
> Thanks for reading, and please review!
> 
> -mew-tsubaki ;)
> 
> 2017 note: *lol* My 2012 A/N was so right—Hannah rly could've murdered her. XD Anyway, I think I like this more 5 yrs later than I did when I originally wrote it? Vicnev is still my OTP, but this has its own allure… :O Altho I'm a Hannernie girl thru-and-thru. ;P


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